Dorian didn’t feel right about Noelle’s plan. “Let me come with you,” he said again, his hand reaching out for her. “No. You’re my ace in the hole. If this goes south, I’m gonna need you.” Her words stirred him, wondering if they were meant for more than just tonight. Before he could speak or move, she was out of the car and walking into the darkness. He huffed and pulled out his cell phone.
Noelle, Chances are I’m really dead this time. I tried to handle this on my own. I didn’t want to come back and screw up the life you’ve built. But I have and for that, I can never apologize enough. Even though it may seem that way, Yiao isn’t as formidable as we believed. Like most men, he has a weakness. I’m going to find what that is and stop him. Live. Love. Your father. Continue reading
Everything had happened too fast. Bullets ricocheted through the room as Dorian grabbed Noelle from the floor. “We gotta go! We have to go now!” he screamed at her. He never released her hand as he began to run through the pane glass window and down into the icy river.Continue reading
I let him roll up the joints we shared, allowed him to feel the sticky green and taste the honey flavored papers on his tongue. His fingers were deft at tucking and twisting, his lips wrapping along the seal. The drinks would always flow, until we were blurry from the cognac and the laughter suffocated the room. I granted him access to my body, relented my control so that he could bend me over and bury himself inside of me. I rose and I fell with him. He wallowed in the murk with me. He sated his deviance within me. I was at his bend and beckon. I was his relief, his private island away from the man he was supposed to be.
I would visit the church often. I would sit in the back, away from the prying eyes of the parishioners and I would behold him, tall and commanding, his coal black skin commanding the audience beneath him. The women were under his trance as he spoke, waves of glistening bosoms and pressed thighs before him. Any one of them would discard her chastity for a moment on her knees for him. He would see me and his voice would soften, momentarily, as he tried to collect himself and block out the memories of nights he spent within my garden. His flock would gasp if they knew the filthy things he whispered in my ears. His fiancé would be devastated to learn of his twisted yearnings.
I knew he would be at my door when he saw me. I made him wait on the nights I wanted to be ravished. At times, I felt as though my skin was burn and melt from the fire that burned within his belly. In a moment, he was wrapped around me, urging the heat between us to spread and consume us both. He kissed me slowly, puckering and sucking the air over my skin, igniting the goosebumps beneath my flesh. He undressed me, fingers and lips and tongue hovering above my tenderness. Before he even began, I was heaving, ready to pitch headfirst into him, ready to turn myself over and sate his desire. I knew I could not have all of him. A part of him would always belong to God, belong to the flock left in his care. He would always try to go to Heaven, always send whispers to his Father for forgiveness and strength. I knew there would be a wedding, children, a life away from me. Every visit was his last, until the sin returned to swallow me whole.
It took Dorian a split second to react to Noelle standing at his front door. His arm whipped to his waistband and seized the gun, swinging it to her face. She grabbed the muzzle and forced his arm down, sending the gun flying. Dorian grabbed the thief by her lapels and dragged her into the apartment. She used her forearms to break his grip and block his strikes as he came at her full force. She was the reason he was out of a job & under investigation. She had seduced him, made his drop his guard for one minute, and outfoxed him, something he could proudly say didn’t happen often. Dorian hated to admit it to himself, but he had a point to prove. Continue reading
He pushed deeper inside of his wife. Her gasp pushed her warm breath onto his full lips, her brow furrowed in borrowed ecstasy. He wound his arms around her, sharing the air between their mouths and the sweat on their skin. “Tell me you love me,” he said as he watched her. She squirmed on top of him, trapped like a field mouse and its slithering predator. He filled her again and again with no remorse for her moans. “Tell me. Say it.”
“I love you.”
He rolled over deftly, still tucked away but she was different, her scent spreading through the room: honeysuckle and orchids. She pushed her knees back so he could peer down and watch her love bloom for him. He pressed his lips onto her knees as he dipped inside of her. He could feel every muscle inside of her twitch around him and he felt himself unravel with every thrust. He wanted to hate her; he wanted to stop and drag her into the deepest hole the federal government could provide. Yet, he wanted nothing but to bury himself deep inside of her, to release the thick sorrow and melancholy that kept him captive. He was trapped in quicksand; a harrowing love for his dead wife and the forbidden lust he possessed for the thief.